(Looks like im starting this then, edits can be done. It was just a bit hard to know how this place looks)

Henry walked along the dark murky streets, avoiding everyone that passes him by. He is not completely sure what is waiting for him, but he does not care. All that’s on his mind is to get to the underworld. He sneaks around trying not to get seen, because he knows the moment his parents hear about this they will fry him alive. They have told him to say away from this place, that he should never set his foot inside the door, but from what he has heard this is where everyone gathers.

Walking along he picks up speed, almost running. He has to get there, he just has to. From what he knows he has to go north and he also knows it’s an old gang lair. He walks by stores, houses until he ends up standing in the middle of the street without a single clue of where to go. “Just my luck” He says to himself as he starts walking back and forth. “Where can this place be?” as he asks himself he looks around himself once again.

But there, in the corner of his eye he sees someone heading for an old building. Whoever it is, is much faster than him and he can’t keep up, but at least now he has an idea of where he could try to go. Running towards the building he sees that it looks dark, but it feels strangely right to head towards it. He heads to the door, but then out of the shadows a guard shows up and pushes him back. Henry stands there clearly freaked out.

The huge guard looks down at him and with a deep voice says "Never seen you around here kid, what do you want ?" it takes a few moments before he asks "Kid are you deaf ? Why...are...you...here ?" He says the last part extremely slowly to make sure that even the dumbest guys around would get it.

"I.. I want to get into the underworld. " Henry says stuttering a bit, but still keeping his calm, at least on the outside. "It's here, right ?" the way Henry asks makes the guard laugh, but he explains that Henry is right and that this is the way into the underworld. However if he should let Henry in was a totally other question.

"Show me kid, show me that you belong down there" just those few words makes Henry question if this is really worth it, what if he fails ? what is even down there ?

Henry takes a deep breath and then snaps his fingers a few sparks fly into to the air, but the guard does not seem to have noticed. Henry again takes a deep breath, but this time he does not snap his fingers. He makes a low hymning sound, its clear, calm and most of all melodious. Soon a small wind blows trough the area and then out of nowhere it happens, a small fire floats in Henry's hand, getting bigger as his voice goes up pitches.

The guard steps away "your alright kid, just don't get killed" and with that the guard melts into the shadows once again. Henry lets the flame fade out and then he walks into the underworld, for the first time in his life he does not have to hide who he is.

"Seven people have been found dead the last week, I'm not at liberty to discuss whom, but two were very important individuals, it's going to set back our plans by at least half a year." Michael gestured on the table, pointing out seven little sections "Five humans dead, with two of our kind bookending the spree. Humans died on the weekdays, this is of course a pattern, but most likely meaningless."

"But were any other deaths connected to this group this week or recently? Just those seven?"

"No, just the initial seven, we of course have reason to believe they will strike again, try to remove our support, if that is indeed their goal, or perhaps do something completely unexpected, we have no way to know. So far, all of my contacts have tightened security, I suggest you do the same."

Cyrus adjusted his hat and glared down at the table, nobody really knew where he lived, but he supposed it was a good idea to be safe. "Did you put up the bounty note? I'm going to go sign it myself, see what we can dig up." He knew he would probably need help, a combination of witnesses and other evidence indicated these murders were connected but by a group, probably a large one. One werewolf, even one of the most prolific hunters in the city, couldn't do much to an organization.

"See anybody you'd like to recruit for the job? The usual hunter's table is over there." Michael pointed to a round table in the back corner where a group was playing some form of poker, with a guard carefully watching in case things went out of hand. "Or you can just go sign the bounty note and wait around to see who else does."

Jakob watched from a distance as a boy no older than himself was questioned by the bouncer. The bouncer was massive, a man built like a tank and covered in hair everywhere except on his head. And Jakob could hear the man's loud, hoarse voice despite the fact he himself was stood across the street, leaning against a street corner. Jakob watched as the boy began to make some weird singing noise and fire grew in his hand before the bouncer granted him entry. He looked around the street; there were quite a few lingering people outside of the club even though it was still early, smoking cigarettes and laughing. In one group stood several women, scantily dressed in stark comparison to himself as he wore layers of clothes in defence against the relatively cold British weather. He wondered how they weren't cold when one turned her head towards Jakob. She was tall and had long black hair which fell down around her petite shoulders, with one dark strand that fell around her pale face. The first thing he noticed was the woman's dark red lipstick; until she smiled to reveal a tiny pair of fangs protruding from her gums. She winked one eye, and he could have swore her eyes were red from a distance.

Feeling flushed as the women walked away and the bouncer quickly peeled away to allow them inside, Jakob realised that everyone on this street was probably a supernatural. He pushed his body off of the building he was leaning against and stood at the end of the street where the adjacent roads met. He stepped onto the street. A shiver ran up his spine, and his shoulders shook a little. He took another step backwards and forward again. The same thing. The street must have been enchanted - perhaps a strong perception filter spell. Interesting. Jakob thought. He didn't think that sort of magic existed. Then again, he didn't really know what was possible when it came to magic. This is why you're here. Jakob reminded himself. He wanted to be so much more than a bastard wizard who killed his mother, who could only manage parlour tricks.
He took in a deep breath of the cold air and moved towards the bouncer who protected the small, unassuming door which led down towards Underworld.

"Hey." Jakob smiled, trying to sound relaxed. He could feel the eyes of some nearby men smoking bear down on him, most likely judging whether he would be granted entrance. There was something nerve-wrecking about this place. He had been into a couple of bars before, but at least they were full of humans. These people were his equals and superiors, many of which could tear him apart with their bare hands. Creatures that had lived a hundred times his life.
The bouncer began by checking Jakob was old enough and asking if he was sure he wanted to enter.
"Of course." Jakob replied. He expected the bouncer to ask that he perform the same test as the other boy, but he simply waved him through. "Cheers." Jakob nodded, stepping through. He moved carefully down the slippery stairs of a dark-red illuminated cramped staircase, the walls of which were covered in old posters and tacky stuffed animal heads insidiously illuminated by the lights. As he passed by the heads, some came to life and tiredly watched him pass whereas others grunted or neighed. Was everything in here enchanted?

Taking no time to stop and take in his surroundings, Jakob handed in his multiple layers of clothes and some cash to an amused looking young man who stood at a counter near the door. "Cold out I'm guessing?" He smiled, taking the cash as Jakob's clothes floated off onto some hangers.
"Yes. Pretty cold. Your country has foul weather." Jakob replied, hoping his German accent wasn't too obvious. He thanked the man and moved across to the bar, which seemed to be made entirely of thick panels of glass and glowing with red light. Whether it was magic or some lights below the bar, he couldn't tell. He handed over some more cash and got his drink, where he sat at the bar and got a good view of the place. As he looked around the place, he noticed a damp flyer on the bar in front of him.

Frank had been in the underworld for only about ten minutes, and he already detested the place. He wasn't one for clubs, sure there were many other supernaturals around but that didn't change a thing, there was a bevy of folks who were obviously werewolves talking about something or other in a far, dimly lit corner. Frank made a mental note to stay away from that part of the club, not that it mattered much, you could tell who was who in this place, magic-users intermingling with vampires and werewolves, it overwhelmed ones sense of who was what in such a confined area. Frank began to wonder why he came here, then out of the corner of his eye he saw the bar with the wall behind it lined with spirits of all shape, sizes, colors and viscosity if you're into that sort of thing. Some of which were so old and outdated you cold practically taste them by looking at them, but he wasn't here for them, as much as he enjoyed the sight of them he just needed a pint.

Frank strolled over to the bar, pulled a crumpled up note or two and some shrapnel from his back pocket and laid on the table. "A pint of something stout, Keep the change." He said gruffly, and before he knew it the man produced a glass of a strong smelling alcohol, he thanked the bar tender and began to sip his beverage while surveying this club, with a drink in hand he decided it wasn't all that bad, could be worse actually. He didn't have much else planned here but thee something other than the bar caught his eye, a bounty board. How nice, employment and alcohol no wonder people were always here. Frank slowly looked over the board a few rogue people needing to be found, the occasional misplaced occult item, someone was apparently missing their head and was in need of help finding it. Then he spied one that caught his interest and promised good pay, normally he wouldn't bother, but work had been sparse and taking money from dead people is getting less and less profiting these days.

Frank produced a pen from his suit jacket's inner pocket ad signed it in a horrid scribble that somewhat resembled his name, he figured he could actually help in this one, dead people were his forte, he truly worked best with them. Usually because they don't talk back, or have the trivial trappings that make the living so hard to be around like opinions and free will and all that nonsense. Worst case scenario he'd be with a few other people, in-fact he guaranteed to be if anyone else signed this, he tried not to think about, hopefully they'd let him do whatever he needed to do in peace and in preferable, but unlikely silence.

He peered back over to the bar briefly and noticed that a man with a hat was looking over at him after he had singed the note, Frank quickly sized him up out of the corner of his eye, he could feel his presence, his supernatural one anyway. And he could tell that this man was a werewolf, and that he just signed this werewolf's bounty note. Frank sighed slightly.

"Fuck."

From the dimly lit alleys surrounding Blackbury's most underground location, a lone figure steps from the shadows and approaches the entrance with confident strides. The bouncer steps forward readily, but quickly sinks back in disappointment when he catches sight of their new guest, as there was little confirmation needed to affirm her identity. She was hardly hiding the vapour gently rising from her body as she stepped through the frigid night air, surrounded in a comfortable embrace of warmth that radiated from every inch of her exposed skin.

Even if it weren't for this magical protection, her attire was clearly suggestive of her true identity, a familiarly oversized black hat resting casually on her head of night-black hair so as to hide her eyes from the world. Her body and smile seem youthful, but her proportions and presence suggest otherwise, giving off a distinctively mature and mysterious feeling with every step. This wasn't uncommon at this particular establishment, but it set her apart enough that she wouldn't appear out of place. When she reaches the entrance, the bouncer steps forward again hopefully, carefully considering her appearance and speaking up accordingly.

"Hey wait up little lady, you don't look like no-" The impressively sized guard begins to speak, but is quickly shut down by a dismissive wave from the young witch.

"You know just as well as I that this appearance is an illusion, and that this isn't the first time I've been here. You needn't play with me so much every time I come, I may start thinking you harbour misplaced feelings for me." With this vague introduction, the yet unnamed woman stops hardly a foot away from the weighty bouncer and quietly glances at her surroundings in search of potential onlookers. Satisfied that there were no others standing nearby, she speaks again in a far quieter voice-

"How many magic users tonight? I've had more than enough on my mind these last few evenings, so I've hardly had opportunity to come down myself." The towering man grimaces slightly at the much smaller woman's request, but proceeds to list off a handful of brief descriptions. None in particular stand out to his apparent associate, but she accepts his cooperation gratefully anyways, politely bowing her head in appreciation before shedding her magic coat and continuing on into the depths of the underworld.

She pays much attention to the little details of her supernatural journey into the depths of the club, carefully eyeing every passing mystery as if to unravel its secrets with a glance, walking with all of the haste of a passing tortoise. When she finally breaches the main floor of the club, she lets her eyes pass instead onto its many occupants, rapidly moving between the countless bustling supernaturals and darkly lit corners. Of course, her wandering vision was obscured by the protection of her curious head wear, but she was certain that at least one of the club's occupants noticed her passing gaze.

Deciding it unwise to stand conspicuously in the centre of the doorway, she briskly skirts around the edge of the excitement and settles into one of the more advantageous views in the house. From there, she searches around for those matching the bouncer's descriptions, paying particular attention to not drawing the crowd's eyes. Within moments, she's tracked down all but one of the magic users in the club, and before she has a chance to consider each with equal value, one does something that catches her passing fancy. Resigning herself to curiosity, she approaches the older man from behind and peeks over his shoulder to see what sort of bounty he had taken, nodding imperceptibly at the contents of the sign-up.

Apparently this man was called Frank, and judging by his smell he was probably not wearing any sort of illusion, so she could trust that what he looked like then was his true appearance. Not allowing herself to linger too long without acting, she casually raises her finger to the spot below this stranger's name and signs her own, carefully tracing out an intricate, but solitary, "B" on the note. Finishing her careful handiwork, she angles her head towards the magic-user and gives him a sideways, almost mocking sort of smile.

"It's a pleasure to meet you."

Jakob picked the damp flyer from the wet glass, flicking off the wetness as he took a couple of gulps of his own drink. Apparently someone was in need of bounty hunters and the pay was good. He swung around in his seat, taking another copious gulp of his drink until his eyes fell upon the pair stood by the bounty board. There was a young woman and an older man who were both penning their names down. Why not? I do need the cash. I might even make a couple of friends. Jakob thought, hoping it wasn't the alcohol talking already. He placed down his drink and borrowing a pen from the bartender, made his way across to the notice board cheerily.

"Can I squeeze in?" Jakob asked, sliding between the woman and man as she introduced herself to him. The woman seemed dressed a bit too grandoise, and looked quite comical with half of her face covered by a big, black witchy hat. Maybe she was just pleased to be a Witch. That could explain why the uncovered part of her face looked so smug. The older man just seemed tired, much like he didn't even want to be here but might have just wanted to drown his sorrows.
Jakob scrawled down his signature and looked back over the other two. "You both must be crazier than me. It's taken me half a double vodka to sign up to chasing down some murderer, but you haven't even been to the bar yet. I'm very impressed." Jakob chuckled, extending his hand so his drink would return to him from the bar.

Henry hadn't been sitting for long before he started to look around.Taking a few gulps of his drink he started to notice how the room easily could be split. He found that every single creature had their own special vibe, aura or what ever you wanted to all it. As he looked at people he felt it. The werewolfs had this feeling of being wild-beasts just hiding under the surface. The vampires the void of warmth and to him the felt dead, but still strangely attracting. Magic users on the other felt like they had a some form of electricity surrounding them.

His eyes flickered across the room and he noticed some lady with a way to big hat and he couldn't help laughing "Well im guessing she is a witch and a bit tacky one at that" He felt a bit bad for saying it, but sometimes he just couldn't control himself. He saw her standing close to some kind of board and next to here two guys, one a bit older and one quite a bit younger. Henry wanted to walk over, but was a bit afraid to. He didn't know any of these people, but wasn't that why he came here ? to find out about what this place was ? meet his own ?

After a few moments of catching up courage he lifted himself of his seat and walked over to the board. He didn't say anything, he just looked at it. Not much got his attention, but when he saw some of the huge numbers that was offered for some of these people he got a bit stunned.That much for one guy ? jesus thats a lot He grabbed the pen and stood there for a moment before he also signed it.

"Well, that was rather quick, seems the price tag caught some eyes." Michael idly scrubbed the bar in front of his companion, there wasn't anything there, it just was part of the 'serious bartender' vibe he tried to keep. People rarely went to the bar, and despite owning the entire establishment, the millenia old vampire had been serving drinks in one form or another since at least 1500's, BC of course. Cyrus had quite the taste for rum though, so they had gotten to know each other quite well. "There is a nexus of magical energy over there, I hope you aren't intimidated."

If Cyrus had been in wolf form his ears would have twitched back from irritation, "hardly" he growled. If anything, the magic users could be a liability, If they were caught by surprise, then they would have little to no defensive measures at all. Of course they might be able to do some magic tricks to help with the investigation. It looked like he would be the only Werewolf of the group, which was fine by him. Most other Werewolves are hotheads with no self control. He dropped some coins on the bar and got up to go introduce himself.

"Alright ladies and gentlemen, as you can see we've got quite the case on our hands, so much we had to offer several spots. This bill doesn't have the full story on it, but that's because we don't have the full story. I'm Cyrus, I do a lot of work for the person who posted the bill." He hastily scrawled his name on it as well, "All we have to go on is a group is suspected of murdering several important individuals, including Supernaturals. Any questions?"

Frank saw an elegant "B" form underneath his own name on the bounty paper I looked like ancient calligraphy compared to his signature. He looked over quickly just in time to see a sideways smile on a woman's face. He instantly knew two things about her, first of all she was using an illusion a good one too, normally he can smell them a mile away. Second of all he smile and greeting were completely insencere. With these two things put forward he realised who she was, he had never met her but he was well aware of magic users of a certain fame or in the case infamy.

Frank grunted a reply at Beatrice something that sounded like you too.

Before he could do anything else two more seemingly one after the other showed up to sign the bounty note he signed. He contemplated leaving right then but running into the chaos witch was something he didn't intend on passing up, you don't get a nickname like that with out reason, she could possibly help him, the other two he could care less about, Frank wondered if they could even see that she was using an illusion. Regardless of their skill he'd question then about everything he could.

The werewolf who was sitting at the bar had joined the party, Frank shifted uneasily as he got closer, he didn't reply when asked, he simply finished his beer.

"Alright ladies and gentlemen, as you can see we've got quite the case on our hands, so much we had to offer several spots. This bill doesn't have the full story on it, but that's because we don't have the full story. I'm Cyrus, I do a lot of work for the person who posted the bill." He hastily scrawled his name on it as well, "All we have to go on is a group is suspected of murdering several important individuals, including Supernaturals. Any questions?"

Jakob resisted cocking an eyebrow at the man who had stepped forward. "A few. Which important individuals? Where were they murdered? When?" Jakob said disparagingly, glancing at the Vampires and Werewolves which lingered around the club which was slowly but surely filling. No doubt many could hear their every word. "And - should we be discussing this here? Now?" Jakob asked. It was hardly a big leap of faith that this conversation could make it back to the organised group which was assassinating important individuals, given this was practically the only decent Supernatural spot in town from what he'd heard.

"I am not at liberty to discuss whom, all I can say is they are very important people supporting a specific project. We have reason to believe this group is trying to halt said project. The corpses were found in alleys, in one case drained of blood and in the other shredded with very few identifiers. I have been informed that both alleyways were very far from where the victims would normally be." Cyrus was making sure to conceal as much irrelevant information as he could. He himself knew full well who died and he had a suspicion as to why.

"You all are adept at magic, I can clearly see." He had no real way to judge magical ability, but the older man and the woman held themselves with an air of confidence and smug superiority he interpreted as security in their abilities. The other two he wasn't so sure, but he decided flattery would be the best policy. "Now, as far as what we need to do, the first step would be to investigate. The human deaths we shouldn't concern ourselves with, there will likely be no useful information there. I have some preparations to make of my own. We should all meet somewhere, anybody have ideas?" He was new to this group thing, trying to include his new allies, or at least presumed allies, without sounding like he was taking charge too much.

Meanwhile, a lone individual watched the five bounty hunters from a far off table.

Indeed, Beatrice could do little but laugh quietly when she noted an air of recognition coming from her older companion, but she did her best to contain her mirth in front of the guests. It seemed to her as if she was attracting all of the younger magic users in the club, as in moments both a well-shaven young man and boy hardly in the cusp of adulthood have shown up. The man named Jakob spoke amiably and seemed to still possess most of his youthful confidence, brushing past her unflinchingly on his way to the table, but he didn't interest her as much as the others.

Their second new follower was one who seemed yet to escape boyhood, at least in personality. This "Henry" contrasted heavily with the club's rather adult crowd, and for this exact reason he drew the curious witch's gaze more than the others. Suddenly, things seemed to begin moving a bit quickly, and Beatrice found herself quite uninterested in the passing affairs. A dog calling himself Cyrus, apparently content to lead their little gathering, comes over and explains the details of their coming job, asking them all for their input along the way.

Deciding that Frank's decision to remain silent was wise, she takes a step back and patiently listens to what the unsightly beast has to say. In moments, after he's finished answering Jakob's query, she steps forward again and lets her mind run free, struck by a sudden urge to contribute an ounce of her thoughts (possibly provoked by the unexpected flattery)-

"If you would allow me to speak, my dear Cyrus, I wouldn't dislike the opportunity to share my thoughts on the matter. It seems you have much knowledge of this incident, more so than you let on, but as little as you may wish to tell us, it would be wise for us to become acquainted with one another before we set out on our mission. I know little of how your kind operates, but I am of the understanding that magic tends to burn the unprepared caster. With three magic users apparently working in tandem, it would be an unwise move for us to proceed without addressing our teamwork and leadership. Even if there are those in our group who dislike working together, I believe it necessary if we are to avoid accidentally setting eachother on fire."

By the time the young-looking witch finishes speaking, it is already very evident that she speaks with the tongue of someone far beyond her apparent age. She smiles cheerily now, and although her eyes remain casually reading her fellow bounty hunters, her body language seems to convey a sense of enthusiasm and personality. To add to this effect, she allows a little spark of magic to flicker from one of her fingers and quickly extinguish itself harmlessly. It was all a show, she knew that at least one in the group was experienced enough to notice it, but she at least put some effort into maintaining her image of a youthful witch. For now.

Frank stood and listened in silence, the questions being brought up were all valid and important, and in all honestly, he hadn't even begun to think about them. He still had this idea he was going at this alone, but considering he was standing in with the worlds most unassuming soon-to-be crime solvers he was clearly mistaken. Then Beatrice brought up perhaps the best point of all, and one that Frank found himself, surprisingly, agreeing with in his head, the fact that they needed to get to know one another, as much as Frank detested working with other living people, however he didn't want to be going into this basically blindfolded, what the kids were actually vampires or werewolves in the guise of magic users? Franks paranoia grew rapidly, what if Beatrice is actua- Frank noticed her flaunt a little magic into the air and his mind came to a dead-stop, she wasn't a werewolf, and neither were the other two, or so he hoped.

"I find myself agreeing with her." Frank said, finally deciding to speak. "I'm... familiar with the witch in a purely educational manner, and I suggest these-" Frank paused and shook his finger between Jakob and Henry several times very rapidly "-Two get to know her better, for their own saf- uhh sake." Frank went to drink from his glass, but stopped upon remembering he had drank it all already. Frank coughed quietly and began to speak again. "As for meeting up anywhere, here seems the only reliable place, save for the lack of privacy." Frank stopped, and started again derailing the subject, quickly. "But let's play the get to know each other game first, I'm Frank, I work with dead people and I don't like werewolves." He stopped his condescending outburst and turned to Cyrus and looked him in the eye. "Unless they're paying me."

Henry was not really comfortable around all these people, but he paid attention to every word that was said, every movement that was made and the most interesting was the woman among them. It hadn't taken Henry long to understand that how young she looked did not match reality, she seemed to speak someone that almost matched the age of his mom. A small smirk crossed his face as she finished her speech and by this point there was no doubt in his mind that this woman was playing him for a fool and he was not about to let her think otherwise. He played interested as the sparks started to fly from her fingers, but he didn't pay much attention to it. Because something she had said had gotten his attention and was echoing in his head "setting eachother on fire" for some reason those words just stuck.

What really sparked a flame inside Henry was when the man that later told them that his name was Frank said he knew who this witch and the way he said it just made it better. Henry knew if you knew someone because of education they couldn't just be some pushover. The semi warning made it even more clear that messing with this girl would not be smart. Henry nodded towards Frank to be polite.

"My name is Henry and as of now thats all you need to know. I just feel like it will be a chaos-" He threw a look over at the woman hoping that his hook had made her flinch or at least give him some idea if he was right "-chaos if we all spent to long on this" He knew it was a shoot in the dark, but the only middle-age witch that uses fire and was commonly know (at least if you read about magic users) was the chaos witch. "I just hope we can work together"

Beatrice spoke something of teamwork. Teamwork, yes that was important. Probably it was a good idea. The four mages were not the most welcoming bunch, and he could detect a whiff of racism from some of them. That would make this investigation... interesting to say the least. Then the eldest brought up pay. Specifically from him. At this moment, the bartender who had been keenly listening into the conversation stepped up

"The werewolf here is not the one with the reward, I however, am." The aged vampire hoped his reputation preceded him and would garner attention of the wizards and witch before him. "The 'dog' here" He did visible airquotes around the common racial slur "Has been working for me for some time here. And everything he is telling you is directly from me." He patted Cyrus on the back and leaned into to whisper into his ear. "An employee of mine shall sort things out at your place for you. He shall also acquire your possessions and bring them here." He stood back and addressed the group "Now, my aspiring hunters, I can prepare a private, soundproof room for you to discuss, should you so wish." He smiled an appealing smile that showed off his fangs.

Cyrus was taken aback, usually Michael did not get involved in hunts. He knew that the bartender had put up the bill in the first place and it's solution was very important to him. But he usually left the vigilante movement alone.

Frank bounced his eyebrows up slightly and cocked his slightly at Henry's slight on Beatrice, it was clear he knew something about her, maybe not as much as he needed, but more than nothing that's for sure, he couldn't say anything about his magical abilities, but judging by the way he stands and holds him self with such high confidence, enough to subtlety call-out a powerful witch, there must've been more to him than what was on the surface. Perhaps there was hope for him yet.

Then the bartender came over, why did the bartender come over? Oh shit, Frank realized; he was the one who had put up the bounty, not the werewolf. He was however working with him and suddenly to Franks surprise he recognized the bartender, he already knew he was a vampire before he even flashed his fangs, but this man had been
around for well... ever. This was very interesting all of sudden, if this man needed help figuring out these murders then something was very serious about them, it made Frank curious, he'd have to wait to see some bodies before he looked too into this. Frank noted Cyrus's shock when Micheal piped up and offered the room, also very interesting, either he's not used to him directly confronting him on jobs, or he's jumpy, the latter seems unlikely, but he's seen a werewolf be uncomfortable in it's own skin before.

"We'll take the room." Frank blurted out, not waiting for anyone else in the group to throw-in their two cents, he figured one: It was the most logical solution, nowhere else would be more secure and two: Frank didn't have anywhere to sleep or stay for that matter, he'd fallen asleep in a restaurant the other day after eating his breakfast and apparently letting old men fall asleep after a filling meal is frowned upon or something. That and he hated hotel rooms, they made him uncomfortable, and there is hardly ever room to do anything in them, a flat surface and a large amount of space was all he required.

Beatrice could hardly contain her amusement at how not one, but two of their companions had already caught onto her true identity. She hadn't been trying all that hard to hide it, but she was still a little impressed at their deductive skills, even hazarding to guess they may have little trouble in the coming challenge. This minor hunch wasn't any reason for her to drop the illusion yet, she was rather certain that they had no hard evidence, so she might as well play with them a bit longer before the big reveal. Her expression remains a mask of cheery enthusiasm through all of the two's comments, only stopping to nod once or twice in agreement with Frank's agreement and with the bloodsucker's strangely friendly invitation. There wasn't much to comment on about the arrival, she had already gathered that he was in some way related, and she wasn't surprised in the slightest when he showed up and told them off passively. He spoke in an indirect manner, so Beatrice made note to be careful around him, he seemed like the manipulative type just at a glance.

Following the flow of the conversation after an unexpected outburst from the second quietest member of the group, the young witch steps forth to stand face-to-face with their vampiric patron-

"I think we'd like to take you up on that offer, I find my thoughts distracted when amongst such clamorous folk. It may do us all well to get somewhere quiet so we can...get to know eachother." She gestures for their resident vampire to lead the way, and after he gives a well-mannered "This way", follows after him to where the private room was located. He guides them through a darker portion of the club and past a small handful of curious patrons, eventually leading them to an inconspicuous side door. With the rap of a hand, the door opens up to reveal a comfortable lounge-like room reserved for them.

The Chaos Witch takes a step inside, her great hat seemingly shrinking impossibly as she walks through the door so that it wouldn't brush the sides. It reverts to its original size immediately, but it had unmistakably changed its shape for a brief instant on the way in. Not waiting to be ushered in, she walks straight to one of the seats near the centre of the room and sinks down into it with elegant posture. The room was plenty large enough for them to talk freely, and from the sounds of it, it was entirely soundproof. With a subtle smile stretched across her face, it seemed the witch Beatrice was pleased at how things were playing out. She waited patiently for the conversation to begin anew, showing no interest in spearheading the process so long as she wasn't needed. This seemed to betray the false character she was attempting to portray, but it seemed a few in their group had already caught on that she was concealing her identity. She ran over the circumstances and information a few times in her head, trying to consider the possibilities and pinpoint the unknown factors at play. She didn't have enough information to make a sound deduction yet, but she had a hunch that things weren't going as smoothly as it might seem.

Bowing slightly as Beatrice breezed past him, Michael followed her into the private room with the smallest of smiles on his pale face. He liked this one. She had... class. Definitely a far cry from the usual rowdy werewolves. Taking his eyes off of her rather supple form for a moment, the vampire glanced around the room and raised a dark eyebrow. "Hmph," he said at last. "An acquiantance of mine was supposed to be waiting in here to speak to you all, but it seems she has seen fit to make herself sca-"

As if in response, there was a massive sound from behind a sofa in one of the poorly-lit corners. A thundering snore. "Oh my dear sweet Lord," said the bartender, pinching the bridge of his nose. "That's her." Sure enough, when he went to check, a dark-haired woman in a long brown coat was asleep on the floor (and still snoring). "She sounds like a jet engine," Michael muttered to himself, before giving her several vigorous shakes. "Wake up, goddamnit!" he finally shouted, and slowly, one dark eye cracked open.

"You bite your mother with that mouth?" Sighing in exasperation, the vampire stood up. "You're one to talk. Didn't you eat yours, or something?" Suppressing a yawn, his "friend" pushed herself upright, and peered across the room at Beatrice. "Something like that. I had just hatched, though, and you can't blame a baby dragon for being hungry..." Rather hastily, she wiped the drool off of her face with the sleeve of her coat, got to her feet, and walked over to the Chaos Witch without a second glance at Michael. Something about the young woman was... off.

For a split second, the dragon's eyes flashed bright gold, and the nature of the witch's blurry edges was revealed: an illusion, and a powerful one at that. She couldn't even see through it, at least without taking the time to prepare a Truth spell, and there was only a single mage in Blackbury who had that kind of power. Blatantly staring, she looked directly at the indististinct outline of the witch's head, and nodded. She knew exactly who it was, illusion or no. In fact, she had been hoping to run into this particular witch... After a moment, she noticed the other four, the boys, and realized that she still hadn't introduced herself.

Mustering a hard smile, the woman looked at each of them in turn, committing their faces to memory as she spoke. "Now then, I daresay it's time I introduced myself. Noor Dhahabi, at your service. Unless you've been in Blackbury a while, like our friend Cyrus here, you probably haven't heard of 'the Constable'. Well, to put it mildly, I'm the one that gives the wolves the scent, and tells them to, er, 'fetch'. Whenever there's a body, a murder involving one of us, I'm there, investigating, determining whether it's serious enough for a bounty (many times I just take care of it all myself). A couple innocent supernaturals in the humans' jail? I'm there, sweet-talking and bribing those poor bastards to get our people out before they rip someone in half... And a case like this? Well, I'm all over it! -yawn- Let's just say I'm the best person in Blackbury to help you get to the bottom of this mess."

Michael interjected from behind her, his face still a bit sour. "Indeed. Despite Ms. Dhahabi's less-than-professional manner, she's been in the game for centuries, and has definitely pulled my arse out of the fire more than a few times... With Cyrus and the Constable both, I couldn't leave you in more capable hands. Now, if you'll all excuse me, I've got to get back to the bar. You don't want to see what happens when a werewolf can't get a drink." The old vampire nodded, and briskly left the soundproof room, closing the door behind him.

"Alright!", Noor roared, rubbing her hands together excitedly and running back to her corner to retrieve her briefcase. "I've got a good amount of preliminary evidence from the crime scenes which I'm sure you're all itching to look at, including..." For a moment, it seemed that the dragon's arm had disappeared much too far into the case, and it came out holding a large plexiglass urn that couldn't possibly have fit inside. "This! You see, one of the victims was a vampire, and this is what's left of him. Notice the places where the ash is blackened? Holy Water. Nasty way to go, I've heard. Anyway, here, you hold it," she said absently, tossing the urn at random to Frank. "What else, what else... Ah." Next was a slender laptop, which she booted up, and opened a folder on the desktop labeled "A Weird One". "There you are. All of my pictures from the crime scenes, including quite a bit of data from the human detectives, all of my notes and speculations so far, it's all there. Go hog wild. Too bad they were smart, and barely left any trail to follow, or I might not have needed any help... Anyway, once we all know the basic facts, we can put our heads together and figure out how we're going to go about catching these bastards. Any questions, new bloods?"

Jakob listened to Cyrus' description of the bodies - shredded, drained of blood, dumped in alleyways. The people they were looking for obviously weren't the shy, reserved types then. His eyes drifted over the others as they listened to the description. For the younger woman Beatrice, who herself was keenly focused on Cyrus but as she spoke she was quick, sharp and to the point. However jolly her body language was, there was something cold about the way she analysed everyone. Before she could notice him staring, Jakob looked away. Something inside him told him not to trust this woman; there was something innately deceitful about her, even if he didn't know what it was.

It didn't surprise him that she wanted to establish an order to the group so soon, and probably wanted to be up on those top rungs of leadership herself. Not that it's a bad idea. Jakob noted as Frank agreed. Frank, Jakob thought, was also straight to the point. He did bumble a little on the way there, and maybe he was a bit too forthcoming with his comment about Werewolves. He decided he could trust Frank. Probably too old for bullshitting. He just wants to get the job done. Dandy. Jakob thought. He listened as Henry introduced himself - he seemed shy and unsure of his words, and his boyish face hadn't even caught up with his already young age. But the others probably think I look too young too. Fresh from high school. Jakob thought to himself, suppressing a smile.

He was glad when the Vampire stepped forward to tell them they could move to a soundproof room and gave a chuckle when he mocked Frank's disapproval of the werewolf.

Frank moved into the room, and like all the others was startled to find someone already in there, and they were sleeping, he envied that much about them at least.
The lady and Michael made small take after he abruptly woke her up, Frank didn't pay much attention, for once, whatever they were talking about didn't hold much captivate him nearly as much as how comfortable some of the seats in the room, his lack of sleep catching up with him now. He was used to it in all honesty, sleep was such a troublesome thing sometimes, but right now it sounded pretty nice. The lady introduced herself loudly, which caught Frank's attention finally, Noor Dhahabi... The name didn't ring any bells, but it was old, older than just old actually it was archaic, Frank studied her carefully for a brief moment, she wasn't any of the standard three supernaturals that was for sure, he felt a weird presence from her, but couldn't quite put his finger on it, he decided not to dwell on it for now.

Frank listened as she produced a case and with her mouth set to rapid-fire began detailing the case, she suddenly reached in to her case and somehow produced an urn which she quickly opened to display that it was once a vampire, and no sooner than it was open, she shut it. Then no sooner than she had shut it, it was in the air, coming right towards Frank, he barely managed to catch it, letting bounce off of his open palm the first time, before cradling it close to his chest, he peered inside briefly, it was indeed all ash, some darker than the rest. He couldn't work with this, he tried resurrecting ash once, it took too much blood and it just turned into the congealed dark mess and slithered around the floor for a moment before turning into a little puddle with himself nearly passed out from blood-loss.

She then brought out a laptop and began bringing up reports on the murders, Frank became interested again, but he decided it was too much energy to actually move over to see anything so he spoke instead. "Are their heads still there?" Frank said while motioning with his head towards the laptop, still cradling the vase, unsure if he should set it down or not. "If they are I want to talk to them."